Man Of The Land Poem by ray summer

The man on the land poured dust through hand,
when the dust takes flight in the red suns glow,
there is a man with a weathered face,
etched by the years and the outbacks grace

his boots are cracked his hat pulled low,
hes seen the drought hes felt that blow,
of cattle lost and crops turned dry,
yet never once did he ask god why,

for hes the man who tends the earth,
who knows its pain and knows its worth,
a bushman turned his seasoned hands,
a quiet king from the quiet lands,

hes buried a wife and raised three sons,
seen war and rain and empty guns,
yet still he rises with dawns first light,
to greet the land like quiet flight.